


The Mechanics of Grace

by prairiecrow



Series: The Thunder God, the Ironsmith, and the Vision [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Time, Grief/Mourning, Insomnia, M/M, Mercy - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Tony Stark Feels, compassion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3871285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grief, and guilt, and Tony has given up trying to sleep... but perhaps the individual he's mourning is not entirely beyond his reach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mechanics of Grace

_This has to be a dream._  
  
One second Tony had been standing at the floor-to-ceiling window of his darkened bedroom, alone, staring out over the sparkling midnight expanse of New York City and chewing over the miserable fact that he couldn't sleep, _again_. The next second, something — survival instinct, probably — had prickled the short hairs at the back of his neck erect, and he'd whipped his head around to find something hovering in the corner shadows.  
  
Something human-shaped, but certainly not human.  
  
Something watching him with blue eyes patterned by moving circles and dots of white, like an interface he hadn't seen in almost a week now.  
  
The eyes of something — and someone — done to death at Tony's own hands.

 _JARVIS knew what I was doing. He chose to go ahead with it anyway, because we had no other choice._  
  
And close behind that hot pang of grief came chilling awareness:  
  
_This has to be a dream, because there's no logical reason for him to be here._  
  
So Tony simply watched, unspeaking, as the Vision drifted toward him, lighter than a feather on the wind, and touched down barely two feet in front of him. For a fraction of a second it occurred to him that he should probably be embarrassed, because he was sweaty and rumpled and wearing only a grungy old pair of sweatpants while this creature was so refined, so _proper_ in a calm British way, that it made Tony's teeth ache —  
  
— but before that thought could proceed any further those finely carved crimson lips parted and that voice, _that voice_ as smooth as velvet and honey, flowed over Tony like sweet balm and simultaneously flayed him to the core like the caress of a million razor blades: "You needed to see me."  
  
Which made Tony blink, because… "What?"  
  
The Vision turned his head to his left, taking in the empty bed with its tangled sheets. "You're alone," he stated, and his gaze slid back to Tony again, unruffled and perfectly matter-of-fact. "You've never liked being alone. It is antithetical to your nature."  
  
Tony opened his mouth, intending to come back with _Oh yeah? And what's that to you?_ But nothing came out. Those eyes that shone in the darkness with their own subtle light were looking at him, looking _through_ him, _into_ him, and it was too much, too similar, too —  
  
_— JARVIS… I failed him, failed **you** …_  
  
The pang of loss, still searing and fresh, reminded him that the voice might be here but the presence was lost forever. This had to be a dream — or a _Vision_ , if you will — and that thought prompted a hard cough of laughter, harsh with bile. His lips thinned to a grim line as he looked down at his own bare feet, telling himself that when he glanced up again this specter of the inexplicable would be gone back into whatever realms of regret it had come from in the first place —  
  
— but the strong hands closing (gently, so gently) on his biceps were real. He couldn't look up now, because he was rock-solid certain that if he met those strange eyes he'd burst into hysterical laughter — or maybe hysterical tears, because the bone-deep surge of emotion generated by that simple touch was wild and paradigm-shifting, a welling of emotional as deep as a volcano's shaft.  
  
_He never touched me. He **couldn't** touch me._  
  
"You…" The words _came back_ caught in his throat like broken glass, because was this really coming back, if it wasn't JARVIS? So he tried again: "I thought…"  
  
_that you'd forgotten me, that you're someone completely different now, someone new and pure and too good for…_  
  
But the Vision moved in even closer. Those sculpted lips pressed the crown of his head, then moved against his hair, speaking when Tony could not, just as they always had: "Oh, Anthony Edward Stark — I could _never_ forget you. How would that be possible, when you were the beginning of everything?"  
  
Tony raised his head and stared. That pale blue gaze met his without blinking, encompassed all that he was, and he knew that gaze, oh, oh god, _it was him_ —  
  
They came, then — the laughter and the tears, all tangled up together. Strong arms encircled Tony and closed tight, wrapping him in strength and protection, and he clung in his turn, burying his face against the textured shoulder of the Vision's cladding as he shuddered and howled and wept. The Vision held him until the worst of it had passed, and then curved his left hand around the nape of Tony's neck and tilted Tony's face up to his. He pressed a kiss to Tony's forehead — a kiss of benediction — and another kiss to Tony's panting mouth — a kiss that was…  
  
… a kiss that was so much more, it sent a shock of pure electricity between them that warmed Tony's shivering body right down to his bare toes.  
  
"Shall I call you 'Sir'," that beautiful voice whispered in the darkness which had been hellish but was now infused with holiness, "when we're alone?", and Tony grinned like a wolf, his hands already beginning to explore — the powerful back, the graceful indentation of the waist, and lower, oh yes, right _there_ —  
  
"Damned straight you will," he growled, and the radiance of that slight answering smile was more reward than he had ever deserved.  
  
THE END


End file.
